A sound, the slightest stirring under a bush and she jumped away, her heart in her throat. It was the cat, walking up to her, rubbing against her skirts, its tail in the air. Warna stumbled slightly, trying not to step on the silly thing. She staggered to the side of the path.
Something caught at her skirt, and she turned quickly. Too quickly, for the rantha thorns caught the fabric and with her twist it wrapped itsself around her legs.
The cat ran off into the garden, its tail high, the tip flicking back and forth.
Warna cursed
Dogs barked in the distance. Warna jerked her head up, cursed again, and reached down to try to pull the thorns free.
Sand and Gray ran up, their tails wagging, barking at their joy of finding her. The rest of the pack wasn’t far behind, and they all pushed into her hands, so pleased with themselves. “Careful,” Warna said, trying to push them away from the vines, their lean bodies moving all around her. But the dogs were smarter than she was, seemingly able to avoid getting snagged.
“Warna.”
Verice stood there, in the fading light. Her tears started fresh.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “So very sorry, but it had to be done, Verice, and it was better that I do it, and you wouldn’t—”
“Impetuous human,” he said.
“It had to be done,” Warna huffed at him. “And sometime in my lifetime.”
He took a step forward, and she flinched back, the vine tightening around her. Her skirts started to tear and she froze at the sound.
“Warna, stand still.” Verice knelt on one knee, shoving the dogs aside.
She obeyed, wiping at her tears again, without much success. She felt his hands on touching her skirts as he examined the tangle.
“The thorns are buried deep,” he said softly. “I’m not sure I can free you. Not without tearing it. Hurting it.” He looked up at her, his eyes so silver, so kind. “You’re crying.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I can’t seem to stop. I’m trying to be reasonable, and logical, and—”
“Marry me,” Verice said.
Warna stared at him, in shock. “I just broke our engagement in front of your entire court.”
“I know,” Verice quirked his lips. “They are rather upset with me at the moment.” He continued to look at her, his face calm and composed. “Marry me.”
“No, no, you don’t mean that,” Warna sputtered. “Not for forever. Not for a lifetime. Verice, please. Just let me go.”
“Is that a command?” Verice asked.
Warna snorted out a sob, trying to catch her breath. Her face was hot, and her nose stuffed up. “I can’t, I won’t—I’ll hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” Verice raised an eyebrow. “Warna, I am a Bearer of the Blood of Tethnar, a Lord High Baron of Palins, a skilled warrior—”
“And just as vulnerable as the rest of us,” Warna said. She let her fingers ghost over his cheek, his skin warm under her cold fingers.
“Far too late to worry about that,” Verice said. His hands moved in the fabric, trying to work the thorns free. “My heart is already pierced through, my rose.”
Warna jerked back.
“Struggling against it won’t help.” Verice placed a firm hand on her hip.
“I’m so sorry,” Warna whispered.
“I’m not,” Verice stood, and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You are essential to my home, my hearth, and my heart. Whatever comes, for the rest of our lives and beyond, you are my love, Warna of Farentell.”
Warna buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around him even as she felt the tug of the vines around her legs. Verice leaned in for a kiss, but she pushed back, wiping her face. “I’m a mess.”
